Many of my childhood memories involve me sitting in my little slant-ceilinged room, peering out through my window to the roof spotted horizon, imagining I was standing with my toes sunk into the sands of the distant beach that spanned the glossy pages of my latest National Geographic magazine. I wanted to smell the ocean, taste the salt and feel frothy waves against my skin, not just run my fingers over their bound, inky representation. 

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There was something about the eyes that gazed back at me from the pages as well. If I am being completely honest, in all of those dozens of editions, I only read a fraction of the articles in their entirety. It was the images that I cared most about, or rather, the people immortalized by the photographers' lenses.  They were enough to send my mind wandering in wonder for hours, even days. 

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Over the years, many of the individuals, which I had long since liberated from the famous gold bindings and hung in places of honor upon my walls, found themselves immortalized in a new way - In acrylic. And in canvas. I learned to paint while studying those faces which I had come to know so well, in such an odd and distant way.  The printed, tatter-edged faces inspired me beyond explanation. I knew only a few lines, at most, about each. A name, perhaps, a single breath of words. But I longed to know more. I wanted to know more about those people who had helped make my younger, untraveled self more conscientious about the greater world outside of my little, beloved farm community. They helped me discover new things about humanity and just how similar we all are  amidst our complexities and uniqueness.

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With every brush stroke and every hue I contemplated the spirit behind the eyes I painted. What was their story? What were their fears, hopes and ambitions? I began to see familiarity in the unfamiliar and empathize with those whom I'd never actually met.

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Ultimately, I wondered how I could ever influence someone in such a way, to cause them to take action. How could the power of brushes and paints in my hands be wielded to impact lives in a way beyond just a few moments' ponderings? What if paintings fed the hungry? What if photographs clothed the naked? What if prints allowed children to attend school?

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Admittedly, there are aspects of The Emri Road Project which are undeniably about me. I get to travel the road of life, meet new people and create art until my artist's heart is content. But Emri Road is about so, so, so much more than that. It doesn't matter how many pieces of artwork I create in this life. When my time on Earth is over, I can't take a single item with me. However, when those works translate into bring light and hope to others, the possibilities of lasting impact are boundless.

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With every new destination in life, new friends are made, knowledge is gained, unique artwork is created, and fresh perspective is found. Each composition, whether written or illustrated, is a glimpse of this world and humanity, and a vessel for inspiration and change. ​

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Follow Emri Road to new experiences. Be a voice in the conversations. Help inspire the creations. Act in service to those in need. Inspire others to do the same.

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